


Compromises

by princesskay



Series: The Pirate and the Mermaid Saga [5]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Fantasy, M/M, Makeup Sex, Mpreg, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Trumper, a pirate and the captain of his own ship, has faced everything from rival pirates, and storms at sea, to an angry mermaid army. But Billa is about to make him realize that sometimes, the hardest thing is to be really committed to a relationship . . . even if that means compromising. They're about to go into battle; it couldn't be worse timing. </p><p>This is a direct sequel to Harbinger</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromises

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's been like 10 years since I posed anything on this series. I'm sorry! My muse has been taking me to other - dirtier, smuttier, less storyline-ish - places lol SO I'm cracking down on finishing this story up! Enjoy!

Billa wasn't the kind of person humans liked to associate with mermaids. He wasn't fast, daring, smart, bold, or even that stunningly beautiful. He had never thought of himself as attractive. He had plain, brown eyes, pale skin, and crooked teeth. He had never excelled in school because he was always daydreaming about another place, an adventure his mind could create. He imagined worlds far beyond his grasp, swimming so fast that even his father couldn't catch him. He dreamed about feeling the sun on his face, having legs to walk across sandy beaches.

But he had never actually gone on those adventures until his first heat. He had been woefully unprepared for that night, when the longing, the aching, the pangs of need coiled so tight in his middle that he could hardly swim. Jorg had told him what he needed to know about mating season, but the clinical facts could hardly make up for Billa's lack of knowledge about the intimacy and severity of the first heat. He had crawled onto the shore of that island, ready to die because he knew he was so far behind the others that they would never find the same ground to walk on. There would be no one to take care of him, no one to mate him, no one to love the life back into his broken, agonized body.

And then, Tom had appeared. Tom had changed everything; not just the way mating season was supposed to happen. He had trespassed on sacred mermaid law that stated mermaids were not to mate with humans, but more importantly, he had stolen Billa's heart in doing so. Billa had never felt as loved, accepted, and treasured as he did in Tom's arms; his father and schoolmates had certainly never made him feel that way.

Billa had never considered himself a fighter until the moment he realized Jorg intended to kill the child Billa carried in his stomach – his child, and Tom's. The baby was perhaps the most important thing that Billa had ever called his, and he had been struck with stunning, unexpected realization that he would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant facing his father.

Now, after numerous confrontations with Jorg, momentary separation from Tom, and after being bestowed the great gift of human legs from a mermaid goddess, Billa knew he was going to have to face his father yet again.

He woke to the sound of crying and shouting out on the deck of the _Virtuosa._ He had become accustomed to strange noises aboard the ship, but he realized that this was no normal scuffle among crew members. 

Billa sat up from the pillows and blankets arranged in a cocoon on the floor of Tom's quarters. After accepting Tom's marriage proposal and enjoying celebratory lovemaking with Tom, Billa was frustrated to be awoken so rudely.

He stumbled to his feet and searched for his clothing. His new legs were still weak, but he managed to balance from one foot to the other as he stepped into his pants. He pulled his shirt over his head and went to the door. He cracked it open just a bit and peered out. Across the deck, he could see Tom standing over a cowering figure, who's arms were held by the second in command, Georg, and another mate Billa recognized as Gustav. Both men held the prisoner in a fierce hold, distrusting the creatures movements and intentions.

Billa's mouth fell open in shock when he looked closer at the captive. Though the face was nearly covered in disheveled, damp, blond hair, Billa could clearly make out the features of one of his closer schoolmates, Andrej. Billa was confused, however, by the idea that Andrej could be working as a mercenary for Jorg. In school, Andrej had always been quite like Bill, in that he was a dreamer and a diva, more obsessed with his appearance than learning and fighting. Andrej was the sort of creature that humans believed all mermaids were like – he was stunning beyond belief.

When Billa saw Tom raise his hand as if to strike cowering Andrej, Billa threw the door out of his way and dashed across the deck, his jelly like legs hardly able to hold him up, his feet falling heavy and flat-footed.

“Tom, wait!” He cried, nearly falling as he closed the distance between them.

Tom spun around, his gaze impatient.

“Wait.” Billa panted, pulling up next to him.

“What?” Tom demanded, casting a spiteful look at Andrej, “Why should I stop? Can't you see he's just another mercenary sent by your father?”

“No,” Billa shook his head, clutching Tom's arm to keep himself upright, “I know him.”

Tom paused, his eyes slowly moving between Billa and Andrej, “How?”

“We were in class together.” Billa replied, “His name is Andrej. He's not a a solider, Tom!”

“He's right.” The poor, quivering creature at Tom's feet whispered, “Please, sir. . .”

Billa dropped to his knees next to Andrej and cradled the boy's cheek in his hand, “Andrej, what happened?”

Andrej's big, blue eyes lifted to meet Billa's and blinked rapidly, as if against tears, “They're dead, Billa.” He whispered. He bit at his full, lower lip and glanced away, grimacing, “Oh God, Billa, I know they're dead. . .”

“Who's dead? What happened?” Billa insisted, drawing Andrej's gaze back to his, “You can tell me.”

Andrej licked his lips, anxiously and looked fearfully up at Tom.

“He won't hurt you.” Billa promised, sending a sharp look in Tom's direction.

Tom nodded and sheathed his sword.

Andrej swallowed hard and reached out to clutch Billa's hands. His fingers were an icy cold death grip; the boy was terrified, and Billa was at a loss as how to he could've been mistaken for an enemy.

“I saw them coming.” Andrej continued, his voice paper-thin, “With the harpoons. I got my parents, my brother, and told them to swim. . .But they weren't fast enough.”

Tears welled in Andrej's huge, blue eyes and spilled down his porcelain cheeks. He rocked forward, laying his head against Billa's shoulder as he began to sob uncontrollably.

Billa lifted a stiff hand and placed it on Andrej's back, no longer able to offer proper comfort with fresh terror snaring at his own heart. The reference to “harpoons” brought back vivid memories from only a couple of months ago, when Billa and Tom had found each other again, six months after mating season. Billa had just begun showing his pregnancy, just begun to entertain thoughts of fatherhood and happiness with his baby. He had known his father would see a half-breed as an abomination, but a part of himself had still been overjoyed at the thought of being a parent.

Then the attack had come. It was swift and unseen and had taken several of their group. Giant, metal hooks that sliced through the water stabbed through flesh and bone, yanking loved ones straight from the water, leaving only traces of blood behind. Billa had sustained a wound along his side that still pained him to this day. If it had not been for Tom and his directing of the  _Virtuosa_ crew to defend the mermaids, they all might have been lost that day. 

Billa could still remember the pain and fear. Wondering if he would die. If his baby would die. If he would be hauled aboard the evil ship to be sold like meat.

Billa felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Tom leaning close, “Billa. . .”

“I know.” Billa whispered, “It's started again.”

“Is he hurt?” Tom asked, glancing down at Andrej's shuddering form.

Billa pried Andrej's fingers away from him and lifted the shivering boy upright to check for wounds. He saw only minor cuts and scrapes, but no open wounds that required immediate medical attention.

He shook his head, “He's not injured . . .But, Tom, we can't just throw him back into the water. What if that ship is still out there?”

“He's a friend, you said?” Tom asked.

Billa nodded quickly, “One of my best.”

Tom sighed, then held up a hand, “Okay. He can stay aboard, but only until we get this situation resolved.”

“He can use my crate.” Billa said, drawing Andrej back into his arms and stroking a soothing hand over the boy's head. 

Tom nodded and turned to his men. Billa heard him handing out orders, one to fill the crate with new water, one to plot a course back towards the waters of Billa's home, and another for lookouts to be posted around the ship as they sailed into uncertain waters.

When Billa looked down, he saw that Andrej was looking up at him, his face now placid and unmoving, his watery blue eyes fixed on Billa.

“Thank you.” He murmured, softly.

Billa placed a hand on Andrej's cheek and patted affectionately, “We're going to take good care of you.”

 

~

 

It was several hours later before Billa managed to persuade Andrej to sleep. The other boy was traumatized and terrified; he didn't want to be left alone, but clung particularly to Billa. The rest of the crew seemed to frighten him more.

It was nigh on one in the morning when Tom slipped into the private chambers where the crate of water had been placed for Andrej. Billa was seated in a chair next to the crate, one hand dipped into the water to hold Andrej's.

Billa looked up when Tom entered, and carefully extricated his fingers from Andrej's. At last, Andrej was asleep, his head beginning to slip underwater in a deep slumber.

Tom smiled softly and placed a hand on Billa's head, “You're going to be a great father, you know.”

Billa blushed softly and turned one cheek against his shoulder, “It's not so hard to care for someone that's hurt, Tom.”

“But not everyone would agree with you.” Tom said, kneeling down in front of him, “I know I wouldn't have, before I met you.”

Billa took Tom's hands in his and squeezed, “Before I met you, I wouldn't have had the courage to do any of this.”

They leaned closer, brushing noses for a few moments before joining their mouths in a soft, loving kiss. Billa gave a soft moan as Tom reached up to lace his fingers through Billa's long hair and give it a gentle tug.

Their mouths parted and Billa began to smile. He paled, clasping a hand over his stomach as a sharp shaft of pain went through his lower regions, like a fist drawing tight in his stomach.

Tom's eyes widened, “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”

Billa breathed in and out deeply, squeezing his eyes shut until the pain passed.

“Its okay.” He said, “The baby isn't ready yet. . .Just. . .Soon.”

Tom placed a protective hand over Billa's stomach, “Billa, I can't lead this ship into battle when you're so close to labor.”

“No.” Billa insisted, “We have to save them, Tom. That's my family and friends out there. I won't let them be slaughtered like Andrej's!”

Tom rose from the floor and paced away, raking his hands through his dreads, “I know they're important to you, Billa, but _you're_ important to me! _Our baby_ is important to me!”

“I'm okay.” Billa replied, rising quickly from his chair, “I can't let you turn us back.”

Tom turned and stormed back to where Billa stood, seizing the defiant boy by the arms, “I will turn us back if it means protecting you and our baby, and you will not stop me.”

Billa shuddered beneath Tom's fierce gaze. Tom's possessiveness was comforting, but he couldn't let his friends be sacrificed for his own well being.

“You promised me you wouldn't yell at me again.” Billa pulled himself out of Tom's grasp and turned his back.

He heard Tom's sigh of regret, but didn't turn around to accept the apology.

Tom placed a hand on his shoulder, “I'm sorry. . . I'm just worried about you and the baby. I couldn't live with myself if I let you get hurt. . .or worse.”

Billa bit his lower lip, pushing back the swell of need that went through him when Tom touched him and spoke to him so lovingly. This was a bit of an argument in which neither of them would budge, and Billa didn't want to cave to Tom's charm.

“I couldn't live with myself if I let all my people be slaughtered.” He returned, icily.

Tom's fingers tightened on Billa's shoulders and he forced Billa to turn around and looked at him. Their gazes met, each one determined and unyielding.

“I won't pretend to be a good person.” Tom said, “Because I'm not. I'm selfish and cruel and I care about very little besides myself, this ship, and you. . . I would rather sacrifice the whole world than lose you, so if you intend to fight me with morals, I'm afraid you'll lose.”

Billa lifted his chin, feeling a little disappointed and betrayed by Tom's words. He had known all along that Tom wasn't a good person; he was a pirate, after all. But he had expected a little more respect for human life than what Tom presented now.

“Fine.” Billa pulled himself out of Tom's grasp and turned to leave the room, “Then go fight your battle and afterword, enjoy pillaging that other ship. But I won't be there to watch.”

He made it out into the hallway, head held high before Tom followed him. He kept walking even as Tom said his name, even when Tom caught onto his arm, trying to bring him about.

“Billa, stop.” Tom insisted, his fingers tightening around Billa's arm.

“Let me go!” Billa insisted, thrashing his arm to escape Tom's firm grasp.

“Billa, please. I'm sorry!”

“For what?” Billa cried, spinning around so fast that Tom almost ran into him, “For yelling at me, or for leaving my family out there as bait?”

Tom ducked his head, obviously now embarrassed by his own actions. His fingers slipped away from Billa's wrist, “What do you want me to say? I care about you, not them.”

“Then you are more selfish than you believe.” Billa snapped.

He turned on his heel and marched to their bedroom, half-tempted to slam the door shut before Tom could even make it into his own quarters. He was shivering, partly from rage, partly from horror that he and Tom were actually having a serious fight. He didn't want to be having an argument with Tom, but he could not accept that his friends would be killed, or taken by that ship to be sold to the next merchant that offered the highest price.

He paced to the window and gazed out at the sea churning ahead of them as Tom entered the room behind him. The door shut harshly and they stood in strained silence, each waiting for the other to break. Billa kept his gaze fixed on the ocean, but lifted a hand to bite nervously at his fingernail. His legs were quivering, almost too weak to keep him standing, but he refused to sit down or lie down with Tom's gaze burning into his back. He could feel the tension building, higher and higher, like a rope drawn taut, about to snap.

Suddenly, Billa heard footsteps behind him, and he turned just in time to find Tom looming over him, fingers lifting to clasp his cheeks. Tom leaned close, his breath hot on Billa's cheek, his eyes dark, broiling with passion and anger.

“I won't lose you.” He intoned, his voice low and husky, “Not for anything, or anyone. If you consider me selfish, so be it.”

Billa tried to look away from those burning eyes, feeling it hard not squirm under their heat and intensity.

“Let go. . .” He mumbled, attempting to turn his face away.

Tom's fingers tightened on his cheeks, keeping their gazes aligned, “I love you more than anything . . .If you need reassurance, I can show you.”

Billa bit hard at his lower lip as Tom's body pressed against him, warm and solid. Somehow, it was more enticing now that he was trying to shut out the need than when he was ready to accept it.

“Come here.” Tom's voice was stringent groan.

He pressed his mouth fully over Billa's, cutting off protests before they could even rush past Billa's lips. He kissed hard, nipping brutally at Billa's lips and shoving his tongue past Billa's teeth. One hand stayed locked in Billa's hair, holding him still while the other moved down, caressing over Billa's side and slipping underneath his shirt.

Billa moaned and twisted, his whole body suddenly alive with need and frustration. He didn't _want_ to be wanting Tom; he wanted to stay angry and push Tom away, but he couldn't. He could only writhe in Tom's grasp while his body slowly molded like clay to Tom's will. His body prickled with need, his groin immediately drawing tight as Tom's teeth played over his lips, leaving them aching and swollen, and his tongue searched out the interior of Billa's mouth with stunning speed and devastating efficiency.

Their mouths parted at last and Billa gulped in a breath to deprived lungs. His fingers were grasping at Tom's shirt, more to keep himself upright than to draw them closer.

Tom's fingers were tugging Billa's shirt up, drawing it over the swell of his stomach before getting it caught under Billa's resisting arms.

“Let me.” He insisted, his voice low and ragged.

Billa glared up at him in defiance, breathing hard through his nostrils. He felt as if his legs were going to buckle underneath him, but he refused to crumble under Tom's advances.

Tom pressed closer, his mouth hovering hotly over Billa's. He nudged along Billa's cheekbone and to his ear, flicking his tongue along the lobe.

“Let me. . .” He repeated, drawing his hands over Billa's body until goosebumps cropped up along his spine, “I want to make love to you. . .”

Billa bit back a groan, then gasped when Tom took the moment of weakness to strip the shirt off over his head. Tom drew back, his gaze raking down Billa's half naked body. Billa could see the prominent lump in the front of Tom's pants, something he had never been able to resist.

Billa held up a finger, pressing them against Tom's incoming lips.

“Say you're sorry one more time.” He stipulated softly, “And that you won't turn us around.”

Tom's thick brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, “Billa, that's-”

“No.” Billa shook his head, “I won't change my mind. Say it, or this conversation is over.”

Tom sighed and turned away, leaving Billa's finger alone in the air, slightly damp with Tom's saliva. Billa pulled his finger back into his fist and clutched it to his chest, waiting to see what Tom's decision would be.

“You know, I couldn't love anyone more than you and the baby.” Tom said, quietly, “I can't see how you don't see the conflict in the situation.”

“I do see it.” Billa replied, “But I'm willing to take the risk considering the collateral damage.”

Tom shook his head, keeping his back turned. He was struggling to make the decision, knowing that people were going to get hurt either way. He still couldn't accept that it would be Billa or his child.

Billa stepped up behind him and laid a gentle hand on Tom's shoulder, “I'm sorry, Tom, but they're my family. . .my friends. Would you ask me to let your whole crew be slaughtered?”

Tom stiffened but didn't reply.

“I may have left my father, but there are still people I care about under the ocean. I haven't completely disowned them. I've just . . . I've chosen love.”

Tom slowly turned to look into Billa's eyes, “You're sure there's nothing I can say to change your mind?”

Billa shook his head, anxiously gazing at Tom with big, dark eyes.

Tom reached out to cradle Billa's face with both hands and drew the boy to him. He pressed a kiss to Billa's forehead and held him there, against his chest. Billa breathed quick and shallow against Tom's chest, fighting emotions because he would rather stay strong when so many people needed him.

“You darling child.” Tom whispered, voice husky, “How did I ever deserve someone so good?”

Billa lifted a shoulder and looked up at him, “Maybe you didn't. . .But I chose _you._ I don't want to fight, Tom. Can we agree about this?”

“Maybe we won't agree.” Tom said, “But we can compromise.”

“How will we do that?”

“You have to agree that once we get to your home, you will stay here, inside the ship.” Tom said, solemnly, “Don't come out onto the deck for any reason, unless this ship is going under. I want you to be as safe as possible.”

“Okay.” Billa agreed quickly, “Done. I'll stay right here.

Tom let out a sigh, “This isn't easy for me. . .”

“I know.” Billa patted his chest, “None of this easy. But I feel like we're close to the other side . . . You know, to happiness.”

Tom drew Billa closer, pressing a warm kiss to his mouth. When their lips parted, he murmured, “I would be happy _now_ if you let me take you to bed.”

Billa's breath hitched in his throat and he nudged closer, wishing for a single moment that his pregnant stomach didn't stand between their stirring groins. He inclined his lips and sank into the pleasure of Tom's mouth as they kissed long, slow, and deep. Tongues darted back and forth, exchanging heat and saliva, indicating rising need as they met harder and faster. Tom's fingers slid from Billa's cheek and traversed down his back, following the curve of spine until he was clutching one of Billa's round little butt cheeks. Billa gasped softly and wrapped his arms tightly around Tom's neck, nibbling at Tom's lower lip to communicate his desire.

Tom pulled back, breathing heavily. They gazed desperately into each other's eyes for a few moments before Tom turned and led them back to the blankets and pillows arranged on the floor. Billa sank down to the little cocoon of silk and cotton and stretched suggestively against the pillows, casting a lustful, half-lidded gaze at Tom.

Tom loomed over him, stripping out of his own shirt and nudging his boots off. He knelt down over Billa and joined their mouths once more while his hand felt down Billa's chest and the swell of his stomach. Billa moaned softly into his mouth, arching his back as Tom's palm stroked lovingly over his rounded stomach, slowly traveling down to the flesh beginning to grow hard and throbbing between Billa's legs. A jolt of pleasure went through his body when Tom's fingers circled his cock at last, giving a smooth pull that caused Billa's stomach to twist with pleasure.

“Ahh God. . .yes. . .” Billa moaned, inclining his hips toward Tom's hand.

Tom pressed hot kisses against the corner of Billa's mouth and along his cheek, eventually slipping down to his jawline and throat. He licked and nibbled at the pounding pulse, sending shivers down Billa's spine. He arched and clawed at Tom's bare back, dragging his nails across warm, and delectably muscled flesh. Tom breathed raggedly against Billa's neck and gave his dick a firm squeeze.

Billa groaned, his hips still rising and searched for Tom's touch even as Tom's fingers slipped away.

Tom leaned back and rested his hands on Billa's inner thighs. His gaze was dark and hot with lust, scouring down Billa's body with intensity that made Billa squirm. He parted his legs under the light pressure of Tom's hands and displayed himself, cock pressed tight against his belly. He pulled his thighs up as high as he could with his protruding stomach and reached a hand down to stroke his exposed entrance.

Tom bit hard at his lower lip and lunged forward, pushing Billa's hand away. He replaced it with his own, petting softly at first, and then harder when Billa began to moan. Tom's fingertip pressed softly at the entrance, acting as if he were going to breach Billa, only to withdraw at the last second. Billa sucked in a breath and opened his eyes sharply, looking up at Tom in need and disappointment.

Tom brought his finger to his mouth and sucked on it, making the digit thoroughly slick before extending it once more. When his finger returned to Billa's entrance, it thrust forward immediately, submerging fully in the tight heat. Billa's mouth stretched open in a soft cry, and his eyes, wide and blinking, locked onto Tom's. He tried to communicate his need, but his throat was silenced by the pleasure that suddenly overcame him. Tom's finger pumped in and out, probing along the inner walls and nearly reaching his prostate before pulling back to add a second finger. Billa's fingers curled into tight fists around the sheets.

A whine built in Billa's throat as Tom's fingers slowed to a steady drag, in and out, those two fingers stretching him open with precision and exquisite pleasure. The ache inside him grew to a drumming beat that coincided with the waves of heat crashing through his insides. Over and over again, the knife of arousal twisted deep into his belly, causing all of his muscles to clench, causing him to squeeze Tom's fingers hard. Tom grasped his thighs, keeping his trembling legs open as he thrust his hand a bit harder, working back the resistance Billa's tightly strung body was putting up. Billa dug his heels into the floor and levered himself up against Tom's fingers, begging with himself to just relax, allow the muscles to gape for Tom's big cock. It was hard to relax after the fight, though, and even harder with insane need pounding through his body.

Tom pressed a third finger inside him and Billa nearly screamed as the sizable width of Tom's hand split him open.

“Oh God, oh God. . .” Billa gasped, gaze running wildly to Tom's, pleading for mercy.

Tom leaned closer, his dark eyes ablaze with possessive and uncontrollable desire. He inserted himself between Billa's clenching thighs and dug his hand deeper. Billa could hardly breath as little more than a minute passed before Tom added the fourth, little finger to his already stretched and trembling body.

“Fuck. . .oh fuck. . .” Billa gasped, scrambling for a hold on Tom's shoulder, then reaching up to twist his fingers around a handful of dreadlocks.

Tom's other hand reached up to stroke his cheek lovingly. The firm, steady thrusts of his hand slowed to gentler caresses as he gazed into Billa's eyes.

“I love you.” He murmured.

Billa shivered softly and felt himself quiver delightedly around Tom's inserted fingers.

“I . . .I. . .” It was all Billa could manage in response as Tom slowly withdrew his fingers and guided his cock to the now open entrance.

“I love you.” Tom repeated, tilting his hips forward just enough to press the tip of his cock in, “Don't forget it ever again.”

Billa swallowed hard, unable to speak, just nod in response.

His eyes widened, the breath hitching in his throat when Tom completed the first thrust, his cock piercing the tight, wet heat inside Billa's hole. They clutched onto each other, taken by the first deep connection, lost in their love all over again. Tom leaned down to seal his mouth over Billa's, kissing him slow and passionate, with caresses of his lips, and persistent flicks of his tongue. Billa arched his tongue forward eagerly, swirling it around Tom's and making a wet mess of their lips in hungry desire.

Tom's hips moved in a slow, but steady motion, his cock gliding in and out of Billa at a pace that they both hated and loved. Billa wanted to feel them joining deep inside, to his very core – the kind of wild coupling that they always enjoyed together – but at the same moment, he wanted to enjoy this moment forever.

He knew after tonight, things were going to change.

There wasn't just one threat out there anymore. Not only was there Billa's father, but there was also the pirates that intended to take the slain mermaids to merchants for some gold coins. Billa had ever intention of protecting his family from those evil men, but he hadn't seen his father in several weeks; had Jorg's opinion of the baby changed at all? Did he still want to kill them both? None of those questions mattered if his whole family was going to be slaughtered, and it was a risk Billa was willing to take, even in his largely pregnant condition. It was something Tom just couldn't – maybe never would – understand.

Billa gazed up at Tom through heavy lids. He rubbed his fingers through Tom's thick mass of dreads and felt a hot sting of tears in his eyes.

“I love you so much.” He murmured, gasping at the very end when Tom pressed into him hard and deep.

Tom bit at his lower lip, the strain showing through on his features as he slowly, yet steadily thrust them closer and closer to completion.

Their bodies joined in soft, wet slaps, barely audible over the wind and waves outside of the ship. They mated quietly this time, deeply connected at their cores and not wanting to let go for fear of losing the other. The heat built between them nonetheless, a burning, insistent flame that was nursed by the friction of Tom's grinding, pumping manhood and the slow squeeze of Billa's body. No matter how hard they tried to fight the sweet ache swelling between them, it came in quiet, yet deeply felt vibrations until they felt apart at last, still joined when their bodies seized with overwhelming pleasure. They moaned and writhed together, mouths blasting hot breaths back and forth, fingers stroking and clasping over naked, sweaty skin, eyes meeting in desperate need and love.

Tom slowly rolled off of him, breathing hard. Billa gasped in a breath and wrapped his arms around his stomach, warding off a sudden spasm of pain after the convulsions of pleasure. He turned his face away, hiding the agony etched on his features as the fist of pain squeezing his insides didn't subside this time. The pain grew worse, wave after wave of torment rattling through his stomach and making his whole body hurt. He gasped for a breath while tears rushed from his eyes.

It couldn't be happening now. After Tom went away to fight the pirates, after he was fully engaged in defending Billa's family, _then_ it could happen. But not now, not when Tom still had the power to turn this ship around.

“Billa?” Tom murmured, pushing himself up on one elbow.

Billa curled on his side, turning his face away as Tom tried to turn his gaze to him.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked, worriedly, his fingers petting over Billa's arm and down his back.

“I'm. . .I'm just scared.” Billa whispered through tears.

It was, at least, the truth.

“Of what? Tell me. What's wrong?” Tom insisted, pulling Billa out of the fetal position and into his arms.

Billa huddled against Tom's strong chest, breathing in the familiar scent and drawing strength from their closeness.

“Everything. Those men . . . the baby. . . losing you. . .” Billa cried, his voice breaking into full-fledged sobs.

“Oh Billa. . .” Tom held him close, “It's going to be okay, darling. We're going to face those men and take them down. And you're going to be a great father to this child. Don't worry about having the baby. It will happen naturally. And when it does, I'll be right there with you.”

Billa pressed his face into Tom's chest and wept brokenly, hardly hearing Tom's words of comfort.

Tom didn't know anything about Billa's fears. He had never been cut by those pirates' harpoons. He had never swum aimlessly through cold ocean, just trying to escape that knife of death. He had never been pregnant; never carried a child for these eight months, never experienced the labor Billa would have to go through . . .

But Billa had experienced these things, and he had watched while his own mother died in child birth, leaving Billa and Jorg with two watery graves, one for a mother, and another tiny mound of sand and dirt for a child that would never breathe it's first breath.

Billa had never told Tom about his mother and unborn brother because he knew it would scare Tom, maybe even worse than it scared Billa. Because, the truth was, Billa was scared to death about the birth of their child even if he loved the baby unconditionally. He was afraid of plunging into the water as the contractions began and never breaking to the surface again. He was afraid because it was so close and he was hardly prepared. Most of all, he was afraid because there was another thing Billa hadn't told Tom; something he was afraid would be the death of him. Something that could be a curse or a blessing. Billa could only hope and pray to any God that existed that the secret he had kept clutched close to his heart would be a blessing, rather than a mark of death . . .

to be continued. . .

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's only one chapter, much shorter than all the other parts, but I have it done, so I wanted to post it. Trust me, there's more to come!


End file.
